Mini-fics
by Sid Crowley
Summary: Just a random collection of Stony mini-fics. Will range in word count from 500-1000, probably. Don't come here looking for a serious plot.
1. For The World

When Steve talks, it's in concrete thought patterns; logical and rationally laid out. Anyone listening to him speak could follow his train of thought from one point to another and never get lost. Steve hardly says anything he doesn't mean, and usually, he'll come back an apologize if he does. He lays the truth out and leaves it for others to deal with. He doesn't see the point in playing games.

Tony doesn't mean to play games. It's not his intention, he's not trying to trip anyone up. It's just that he's been by himself for so long, his communication skills have suffered slightly. He can still communicate a plan or an idea, but sometimes his train of thought kind of gets derailed, and he's the only one who can really follow it. Sometimes, Tony's talking is just noise, it doesn't mean anything. Just him, not being able to stand silence and filling it with useless talk. (Most people just tune it out. Steve listens to every word.)

Sometimes, Tony forgets to say things. Important things. Like, "I love you." Even after a year.

Steve's wondered, on occasion, if he should be more annoyed that Tony's never said it, but then he realizes how worthless words are to Tony, at least when they're coming from himself; they're just something you kind of fling around to get the results you want.

Steve thinks about how Tony draws equations all over Steve's arm when they watch movies, trailing from the back of his hand up to his shoulder. Works of art in mathematical precision.

He thinks about the times when Tony tried to cook for him on various occasions, and how they'd silently compete to see who could eat more of it before they both cracked and ordered take out.

He remembers fingers carding through his hair, and lips pressed to his neck, warm skin pressed together, limbs all tangled together. No heat, just soft affection in the morning sun.

He remembers the night Tony took his shirt off for the first time in front of Steve, and how Tony's hands had shook just a little, when Steve took them in his.

He thinks about that horribly guilty look Tony gets when he realizes how long he's been down in the lab ignoring Steve, and how he'll start apologizing and he won't stop until Steve kisses him quiet.

He'll remember the night he told Tony he loved him, and Tony starting apologizing, as though he had tricked Steve into somehow. Tony had told him not to waste his time, there were better people out there, especially for Captain America, and Steve remembers how his chest ached in sympathy for someone so beautiful convinced they were so worthless. It took him almost two months before he could say it without Tony flinching.

Suddenly, three stupid little words didn't mean so much. Because Tony had already told Steve, over and over in his own abstract way, exactly what he wanted to hear.

He wouldn't trade it for the world. 


	2. Glow

Steve and Tony had been dating for two months or so, and they weren't sure if they were purposefully hiding that fact from everyone else, or if it simply hadn't ever been pertinent. Perhaps, it was really a little of both.

They had been lying on the sofa on Steve's floor, Steve's head resting in Tony's lap, watching a movie, when Steve brought it up. He turned himself so he was facing the ceiling and tugged on the sleeve of Tony's shirt.

"Hey."

"Hm, what?" Tony asked, shifting his view from the screen to Steve.

"Why haven't we told anyone about... this?" He asked, gesturing vaguely, as Tony slid a hand through Steve's hair.

"That depends on what you mean by 'this.'" Tony replied, smirking.

"You know what I mean." Steve chided, poking Tony in the stomach, "Us."

"I don't know, why would we want to?" Tony asked, and winced at the crestfallen expression on Steve's face, his hand stilling. "No, no, no, that's not what I meant."

Steve raised an eyebrow.

"I just meant why would we make a big deal about us, when it has nothing to do with them?" He explained, his hand resumed it's slow repetition through Steve's hair. "We'll deal with it when they notice it. If they notice it. So wrapped up in themselves, I swear, we could get married and they'd only notice the leftover cake in the fridge."

Steve chuckled at Tony, knowing he didn't mean it. "I guess. I just... I guess I'm just happy and I want people to know it's you." He said, closing his eyes and sighing.

Steve felt Tony's hand still in his hair again and he opened his eyes to see Tony staring at him, eyes wide with something close to adoration. Steve grinned a little and put his hand on top of the one Tony had rested on Steve's stomach as they spoke. A moment passed in silence before Tony cleared his throat, and looked away, his hand moving through Steve's hair again, essentially petting Steve and damn, if that didn't feel good.

"I'm not saying you can't, I'm just saying I don't see the point in making a big deal out of it."

"Yeah, I get it." Steve said amiably, turning to again face the TV.

It took a few moments before they caught back up with the events of the movie, and a minute passed in silence before Tony said softly, "I'm not ashamed of you."

Steve already knew that, he knew Tony wasn't nearly as bad at this relationship stuff as he made himself out to be, (as long as you had some patience), but it made something deep in his chest glow, and he smiled as he squeezed Tony's hand and replied just as softly, "I know."

* * *

The next day at breakfast, everyone was hanging around the kitchen; Bruce just starting to fry pancakes, Clint almost breaking the coffee maker in a sad attempt to make it work and Natasha swatting him on the back of the head as she took the filter out of his hand. Steve was sitting at the table with Thor, drinking orange juice, when he felt Tony come up behind him and wrap an arm around his broad shoulders, kissing him on the cheek.

"Morning." Tony said, in a half-asleep voice.

"Uh, good morning." Steve replied, as Tony removed his arm to go investigate the fate of the coffee-maker, caffeine addiction already kicking in. Steve was momentarily in shock, watching Tony walk away, then he realized the brilliance of what Tony had just done.

He openly acknowledged his relationship with Steve, subtly enough no one could really call him on it, but just obvious enough for someone, if not everyone, to notice. He felt his cheeks flush just slightly as he turned his head to catch reactions.

Natasha and Clint had been too involved in the mechanics of the coffee-maker to notice, but Bruce caught his eye, and looked away, as though he was embarrassed to be caught, grinning just enough that Steve knew he'd seen. Looking across the table, Thor looked like he was trying very hard not to explode from excitement. Steve was deeply grateful he managed to contain himself.

It was small act, so beautiful in its simplicity, but as Steve glanced over at Tony, laughing at something Clint had said, he felt that deep, familiar glow, deep down in his chest.


End file.
